Remembering
by Emiliana Keladry
Summary: The memories that we hide can haunt us. Trip cannot remember what happened, but the scars covering his body are deeper than Malcolm can fix. A friendship fic.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Enterprise, ParaMount does.

Summary: The memories that we hide can haunt us. Trip cannot remember what happened, but the scars covering his body are deeper than Malcolm can fix. A friendship fic.

Time: Set at the end of the second season before everything with the Xindi.

Author's note: This story has been lounging around in my computer since last summer and I've finally decided to see if any of you are interested in this. It's a dark seeming story, but it includes keep friendship. Let me know what you think. Thanks and please review!

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**Remembering**

_By Emiliana Keladry_

**Chapter 1**

Drip. Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker III placed his mouth on the small spout, catching each drop that fell into the dirty basin near the farthest wall. There was no bed in the cell and no lavatories. The entire place stunk, but he could care less at that moment. Trip shivered in the cold air of his cell, rubbing his eyes in the darkness. If he wanted light, all he had to do was open the small slot at the bottom of his solid metal door. But Trip had no desire to look out into the corridor. His body ached all over, with a few of his nerves feeling as if someone had torn them. The sensation of pain in his hips from two large bruises above the bones caused him to feel nauseous and each movement felt like needles stabbing into the tender skin. Trip drew in a shaky breath as the pressure in his lungs released a tiny bit. Each breath was a struggle and pulling in the muscles of his stomach almost brought him to tears. At least the darkness hid the trails where the salty water had traveled on his filthy cheeks.

On the first day, Trip remained in darkness with no food to eat or water to ease his parched throat. He spent most of the time lying awake, hoping for someone to come in. The only sound that could be heard was some of the other prisoners crying and yelling. It was wasted energy that couldn't be spared to yell for someone to save them, when no one would come. By the second day of his captivity, it was silent outside and no one had come in to see him. On the fourth day… they turned the lights on outside and he could see out the tiny slot in his door that they pushed the water through in a shallow bowl. He saw _her_ that day. Trip saw a little girl walking down the dimly lit corridor with one of the guards. She appeared to be only two earth years old, clutching a strange blue bear. Soft words escaped her mouth, but he didn't understand her. "Nadia, Nadia?" she called. At first she was calm, but soon tears poured down her cheeks and she struggled. Trip stopped watching when the guard took her weapon and knocked the child unconscious.

For the next two days, Trip heard her weeping in the cell next to his. He couldn't say anything to calm her. Amid her babble, he discovered what Nadia meant. Nadia was her name for her mother that never came. The third day she was in the cell, they killed her. Trip heard them coming down the hall and despite himself… he yelled out, knowing they wouldn't understand his language. He couldn't let them kill her, but there was nothing he could do. Trip tried not to listen, but he heard the girl's screams clearly through the walls. Then it was silent. He peered out once and saw a small figure being moved down the hall, covered in a filthy white sheet.

The true torture began the next day. Two guards came to his cell and hung his hands from the ceiling, forcing him to stand barefoot in the cell for a whole day. It only got worse and he lost track of time. He was given a sick looking meat twice and he forced himself to eat it to stay alive. Trip was beaten every single day. Drugs were pumped into his system, leaving him exhausted and nauseous. He could barely keep any water down. His heart raced every so often and despite the cold, he would sweat as if he had a high fever. The same two guards came each day, demanding to know information about Enterprise, but Trip refused to talk. It only made them angrier. On the thirteenth day of captivity, they brought a new device into his cell. It was a type of harness that was hung from two hooks in the ceiling. It was wrapped around his hips and raised off the ground. He dangled with his own body weight pushing down on his stomach. It didn't seem like a severe punishment at first. But after a few hours, his body struggled against the strain. Each breath Trip drew in was a challenge. He had to lean back and let his legs swing a little lower so he could get a full mouthful of air. He felt light-headed and every so often, coughed up a little bit of blood that tasted like rust on his chapped lips. At night he heard the others yelling in their cells and a terrible storm brewing outside the compound. Trip didn't sleep at all. He was struggling to survive and dying. The pain in his abdomen kept him alert and unable to rest. Closing his eyes brought the image of the child's lifeless body and he was almost glad that he couldn't sleep.

The morning of his fourteenth day of captivity, things changed. His captors let him down, leaving him weeping on the floor. A while later Trip heard weapons fire outside the building. He couldn't hold on much longer. Not long after the fighting stopped, he heard people walking down the cell block. They sounded different. Cells were being opened and the voices speaking sounded kind, but urgent. Trip was suddenly blinded by a bright light as the door swung open.

"There's another one in here," a strange voice said. "I think it is still alive."

Once Trip's eyes adjusted to the light, he saw a weird alien before him. He had an abnormally large nose and was slightly on the chunky side. His skin was dark, but his garments were clean and light colored. He smiled lightly. Trip didn't make any movement in response as fear froze his heart.

"Cort, this one is alive. Get the medics!" the newcomer called.

Trip watched as the alien examined the harness still hanging from the ceiling with a look of disgust on his face. Trip had no strength left to be embarrassed by the mess on the floor or the smell. He coughed violently and pulled his back with blood on it. Panic flooded his senses. The alien sensed his panic, but was smart not to try and touch him. Trip saw a medic enter, carrying a case. He tried to scoot away, but was in too great of pain. He wished he could dissolve into the floor. The newcomer was scanning him and Trip couldn't look away from him.

"What's your name?" the doctor asked.

Trip couldn't find the words to speak. He had no reason to trust the man. It could be a trap.

"I won't hurt you," the first man urged. "I am Captain Tapin of the transporter ship Jest. We have come here to liberate you and the others. I won't hurt you. I want to help you return to your ship."

He picked up Trip's ruined uniform up off the floor and fingered the emblem of Enterprise on the sleeve. Trip could barely glance at his uniform that had been ripped from his body days before. The shame of his existence was overwhelming.

"Is this your ship?" Tapin questioned.

Trip nodded and cleared his sore throat. "My name is Commander Charles Tucker III," he whispered. "I'm the chief engineer of the Earth vessel Enterprise NX-01." If they were the bad guys, he was tired of fighting them. Surely, once he told them what they wanted… he would be killed and not have to live with the guilt anymore.

"Good. We will start scanning for your ship once you are onboard and you can help us locate it. You will go home."

Trip had no energy to answer and rested his face on the cold floor, closing his eyes. He felt his spirits lift a little, but he still didn't trust Captain Tapin. He had no choice. The lone human was exhausted and sick. He was still waiting for them to kill him. The medic laid a hand on Trip's shoulder and he shuddered, trying to escape him. Any kind of touch hurt his bloody and bruised body. If the doctor was trying to walk him down the corridor to his death, then Trip wouldn't have any of it. He shakily got to his feet, feeling pain in every part of his body. Trip had not eaten in so long and his body had no remaining strength. The newcomer gently grabbed his arm when he stumbled into the corridor. It barely registered in Trip's mind. He was seeing the horror of his fourteen days in captivity, lying on the floor. Twelve sheets covered twelve bodies that had had the life stolen from them. He looked up, hearing a woman screaming and crying. Before he looked, a part of Trip knew what he would see. The little girl's lifeless body was being clutched by a young woman as she screamed. _Nadia._ The mother was mourning her child that had been dead for days. It was the last straw. He fell to the floor, yelling. A second later, a hypo-spray was injected in his neck and his body went limp.

* * *

"_Did you see the one with the alien with three hands that needed therapy?" Trip asked Malcolm, hearing the sound of him messing around with something in his quarters._

"_Commander, I told you that I don't follow American horror movies," he answered._

_Trip set down the piece of shuttle pod engine that he was tinkering with and laughed. "That one wasn't a horror movie, it was a comedy."_

"_All of your American movies run together like that."_

"_Sure they do."_

"_I have been meaning to ask if American movies have a lot of gazelle analogies. Do they?"_

_Trip picked up the piece again and smiled. "Don't let Captain Archer hear that remark. I heard through the grapevine that those are his favorite type of movie. You wouldn't want to insult your superior officer and end up in the brig, forced to watch water polo for twelve hours."_

"_I believe that would be cruel and unusual punishment."_

_An alarm went off and Trip got up to inspect what was making that noise. A ship was approaching quickly with high yield weapons. An explosion rocked the shuttlepod and Malcolm frantically asked what was going on. _

"_I'm under attack, notify Captain Archer, Mal!" Trip exclaimed, attempting to return fire and failing. The ship trembled as power began to fail. He could no longer hear his friend calling his name or asking what was going on. The shuttle lost power and everything went dark. Vaguely Trip realized that he was in a tractor beam and going to be boarded very soon by a species that he knew nothing about._

Trip tried to sit up, but two hands were holding him down on a hard bed. He felt the blanket, but only concentrated on the pain that was being inflicted by the hands pressing down on him. His black and blue skin was burning up as his fever rose again. Trip risked opening his eyes to block out the nightmare. He gasped, trying to regain control of his breathing. Two alien medics were holding him down to a table and failing to keep him at ease.

"Please calm down," one of them said, looking anxious about the whole situation. "We won't harm you. You were just having a dream."

Trip relaxed so they would remove their hands from his body and step away from him. The female attempted to smile at him, but failed. She took out a scanner and went to work, avoiding eye contact. Trip took in the scenery, realizing he was in a sickbay on a strange vessel. He could faintly hear the sound of their warp drive and it helped him calm down enough to slow his heartbeat. There were a few other beds that were occupied, but had curtains pulled around. He wondered if they were other prisoners that had survived. The doctor came over, seeing he was awake. She smiled gently at him and Trip saw that she was the same species as Captain Tapin.

"Hello," he said. "I am Doctor Renate. How are you feeling?"

Trip didn't want to respond, but his upbringing told him it would be rude to ignore the doctor that was trying to help him. "Horrible."

"We have been unable to treat you. It seems that our medicine is not compatible to your body. The sedative you were given earlier caused you great pain and we thought that we lost you. One of the crew has located your shuttle craft and we brought it into our bay. Captain Tapin agreed to take you back to your vessel. A group of others are returning the other captives."

"Home?" Trip managed to say before coughing viciously.

Doctor Renate swiftly fetched a glass of water, giving him only a small sip to sooth the ache in his throat. Trip feared that if he drank too much, his stomach would reject it. He rested his head back against the bed, taking deep breaths to calm his anxiety. Jonathan was coming to get him and he would be okay again. In his mind, the image of Jon pacing across the bridge almost made him smile.

"Captain Tapin spoke with Captain Archer a few hours ago and he's been quite worried about you. They've been searching for you for a while now, talking to everyone they can and digging up information on who would have taken you. The man almost gave up hope, but it seems that you are close to him. Your vessel should be here in approximately ten hours."

It was only ten hours until he could be home and rest in his own quarters, listening to the sound of his warp drive hum. Suddenly, Trip's body convulsed and he began to shake. He turned his head away from the woman, throwing up the water that he had just drunk, along with a small amount of blood. A man came over and quickly began to clean it up as Doctor Renate checked his pulse. The room was spinning and he couldn't focus on anything. His stomach lurched again, but he kept it down.

"Commander, can you hear me?" she asked.

Trip attempted to shake his head no, but instead his eyelids dropped and his breathing came in gasps. Air was flowing into his lungs, but his body was panicking. In his mind, Jonathan was speaking to him but he couldn't understand him. His best friend was pale and not responding to Trip suffering. _I miss you_. Trip thought as he succumbed to the darkness.

* * *

There was a hushed sound of a woman's voice as Trip returned to consciousness. In the background he heard the crashing of waves upon the shore. The voice he had perceived was humming softly in a strange tongue. Trip couldn't bring himself to open his eyes, feeling uncomfortable. The pain in his body was ragging and he couldn't focus on anything. There was a clinking that reminded him of dishes being washed that allowed him to concentrate enough to control the feeling of dizziness. Opening his eyes, Trip realized that he was in a different location, a personal quarters of someone. He glanced around and his eyes fell upon the shuttlepod medical kit lying on a table. He immediately needed it to dull the pain. Trip's hand shot out and fell for he didn't have the strength to reach the kit. There was a startled gasp and the humming was silenced.

"Please…" Trip begged; his voice barely audible.

"What do you need?" someone inquired.

A young woman came into view. She appeared to be only in her early twenties, dressed in the same fashion at the doctor. The woman knelt beside the couch, careful not to touch Trip. She lifted a glass of water and offered it to him.

"No," he mumbled.

"It won't hurt you," she assured.

Trip motioned to his ears, too exhausted to speak again.

"Your Captain sent the recording, hoping that it would allow you to rest. He also gave us the location of your medical kit and your doctor insisted that we give some, but I've been unable to read them."

She gently placed it upon Trip's lap, opening up the abused case. Some of the medication was missing or damaged, but he quickly found some analgesic and a hypo-spray. Trip injected it into his neck, relaxing slightly as it flooded his bloodstream. He had given himself a high dose to dull the excruciating pain covering very part of his body.

"My name is Trina. What's yours?"

"Trip."

"Well, Trip I hope that you are comfortable. Doctor Renate had to remove you from our sickbay because one of the other patients had contracted something that was contagious. Your immune system has already been compromised from being at that place and she didn't want you to get worse. I volunteered to keep track of you until your crew arrives. They should be here in about four hours."

Trip barely nodded, taking in a forced breath. He could barely remember, but at one point, he thought that he had been kicked and broken a rib or two. It was difficult to breath like normal. Trina noticed his shivering and went to fetch another blanket. A small face peaked in the room from an open doorway and Trip attempted to smile. The little boy was only a toddler and could barely walk. He clutched a pink bear as he entered the room. Clumsily walking over, the boy placed a hand on Trip's cheek and gently touched his eye-lids. Trina returned and quickly ushered the child back to his room, speaking in an alien tongue.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, covering him with the blanket. "That's my son. I told him to stay in the other room so he didn't bother you. He's just curious. We don't see a lot of other species out here. But I should let you get some rest."

Trina stood up and prepared to leave, but Trip made a distressed noise to get her attention. He didn't want her to leave for he would be left alone to deal with the memories of terror that emanated his thoughts.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, kneeling beside the couch. "I won't leave."

Trip muttered something in a low voice, but she couldn't hear him. He coughed, wishing that Jonathan was here to take him home and save him from the pain. Trina reached out a hesitant hand as if she wanted to touch Trip to calm him down, but pulled back and settled for picking up a book off of the floor. It was a strange picture book with a five-legged animal on the cover, clutching a blanket and smiling. The children's book must have belonged to her son.

"Can I read to you? It always helps my little boy when he's had a nightmare or fallen to read to him. It's the story of Hanna, the loving animal that takes care of everyone. It's a very nice book."

He nodded once, focusing his eyes on the room. It was obvious to him now that a child lived there. He wondered where the boy's father was, but he didn't dare ask a question. There was a highchair in the dining room and a small pile of clothing on a chair. Trip hadn't been able to see it before. Sighing, he attempted to take in a deep breath, but gasped in pain. Trina paused and this time touched his forehead.

"You have a fever."

She disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a bowl of cold water and a dry cloth. Trip moaned, trying to sit up and escape her touch. Trina knelt beside him.

"I won't hurt you, I promise."

Trip shook his head and attempted to move again. The pain was too great, but he relented, resting his head against the pillow again. She gently dabbed his forehead with the rag, smiling softly at him. Trip jumped slightly when the door to the room opened and a tall man entered. All he could see was his shadow and it froze his blood.

"Sweetheart," the male voice called.

He stepped into the room and Trip relaxed slightly. This was not one of his captors, but one of the men that had set him free. Trina walked over to him and her husband kissed her on the cheek, whispering something alien in her ear. The little boy appeared from his room and was swept up in his father's arms. Trip closed his eyes, faking sleep to give them some privacy. _Jonathan, where are you? Please help me._ There was no answer in his heart; he only had a few hours before he would be free and with his friends again. The stranger kept the lights turned low and Trip listened to the sound of them trying to keep quiet. The little boy couldn't stop talking to the father in an excited voice. The human feared that he would never have the child's enthusiasm for something again. He was beaten and broken.

"Do you think that he will recover?" the man asked when he returned from putting the boy back in his bedroom.

"He's terrified of me, Reni. I feel so bad for him; no one deserves what they did to him. I doubt he even remembers all of it. The marks on his skin…" Trina trailed off and Trip felt guilty for listening to their private conversation.

There was the soft sound of sobbing. _Why_ _would Trina weep for me? I don't deserve her pity._ Trip pulled the blanket up, moaning at the movement in his arms. He adjusted his position on the couch slightly, feeling the sharp throbs in his hips. The weeping went quiet and he listened to the soft sound of Trina's footsteps as she came over to him. Trip felt a blanket being laid across him and he pretended to still be asleep. The man bit down on his lip to keep from crying; desperately wanting his best friends to be with him. He wished that Malcolm and Jonathan would come faster.

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_What do you think? Please review!_

_Emma_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Enterprise belongs to Paramount, not me.**

Author's note: Thank you for the lovely response to the first chapter of this story and don't worry as the story goes on and Trip changes, things will make a little more sense. I hope that you enjoy this chapter and review! Thank you!

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**Chapter 2**

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed couldn't wait any longer for Captain Tapin's vessel to dock with Enterprise. He was sitting in the Mess Hall, making a plate of spaghetti motion sick with his fork, unable to eat. Malcolm had been worried sick for so long and his appetite had yet to return. He had been the last one to hear from Commander Tucker as he was attacked by the strange aliens and taken hostage. Guilt filled him up and he blamed himself for each moment that Trip had been missing. There was a small clink sound, causing him to look up and out of his gloomy raincloud. Hoshi smiled at him and took a seat.

"How are you doing?" she asked, always aware of his pessimistic moods.

"I'll feel a lot better when Trip is sitting at this table with us."

"The ship should be docking in twenty minutes. We are arriving a little sooner than expected."

"Twenty minutes?" Malcolm repeated, quickly getting to his feet. "I should be preparing to meet him at the airlock. Captain Archer has been alerted of this?"

"I'm sure that he knows and was probably about to page you. Relax, Lieutenant. Captain Archer is on the bridge right now."

Malcolm didn't respond, but quickly disposed of his smashed spaghetti and hurried into a lift to take him to the bridge. Closing his eyes for a moment, Malcolm imagined seeing his friend step out of the airlock with a goofy look on his face, asking about his engines. He could only hope, but from what Archer had told him… things might not have gone well for Trip.

"I was just about to call you," the captain greeted as Mr. Reed relieved his second in command. "We'll be docking with Captain Tapin's ship in about eighteen minutes."

Malcolm could tell from his tone of voice that the captain was glad his best friend was coming back. The dark lines around his eyes for the past two weeks had lessened some and showed that he had actually gotten some good rest since they found out Trip was alive and coming home. Malcolm reviewed his recent scans, seeing the vessel approaching at a consistent rate. He barely noticed when Hoshi entered the bridge a moment later and took her station. The atmosphere of the room was extremely tense as the minutes ticked by. He was sure that Hoshi and Jonathan jumped when the com beeped. Captain Archer nodded for her to put it through.

"This is Captain Archer," he said smoothly.

"Captain Archer, this is Captain Tapin. Good day to you," the accented voice greeted. "We will be arriving shortly at your location. Commander Tucker is anxious to get home and see you again."

"Is he okay?"

There was a short pause that made Malcolm's stomach drop.

"He is stable at the moment, but I would like to discuss a few things with you in private when we dock, regarding the conditions in which Commander Tucker was found. I look forward to meeting you and your crew. See you soon Captain."

The channel closed after Archer wished him good-bye. Malcolm dropped his face into his hands for a moment, rubbing his weary eyes. Jon glanced over in his direction and frowned.

"Are you feeling alright Lieutenant?" he asked.

"I'm fine sir. I'll feel much better when this is all over."

"Agreed. Shall we head to the airlock? I don't mind being a few minutes early if you don't."

Jonathan invited Doctor Phlox to join them at the airlock since he didn't know how Trip would be returning. Malcolm nodded and got up from his chair, following Captain Archer into the lift. Together they walked to the starboard docking port. Jonathan paced back and forth as they waited for T'Pol to let them know that Tapin had docked. Malcolm focused on breathing in and out as seconds crawled by. Phlox gave him a reassuring smile as he pulled his medical scanner out, flipping it on silently. Finally, the little red light turned to green and Lieutenant Reed pushed the button to open the door. Captain Tapin was a stout man with an oversized nose, dark skin, and formal robes that reminded him slightly of the Vulcans. Two similar looking men were standing behind him, supporting a figure with a blanket draped around his shoulders.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Tapin greeted, taking Jonathan's hand and awkwardly shaking it. "I've been reading up on the data that you sent me about your species and it is very fascinating, but we can discuss that later."

"It's nice to meet you. May I introduce my Armory Officer Lieutenant Reed and our doctor Phlox."

"You appear to be a very agreeable species and I hope to learn more about you, but I assume that you are more interested in Commander Tucker."

He motioned to the man being supported by the two aliens. Malcolm focused on the shadow of his best friend. The strange scrub-like clothing was hanging from his body, showing how much weight he had lost in the two weeks. His cheeks were deathly pale and a small layer of sweat was on his forehead. Trip looked up and his blue eyes even seemed to have had the life sucked from them. Upon seeing Jonathan, Trip took a few steps towards him. The man groaned with a pained look on his face. He stumbled once, but Jonathan was quick and caught him, holding him gently in his arms. Trip pressed his face into his captain's shoulder. His entire body was shaking as the sound of soft sobs escaped Trip and Jon rubbed his back to calm him down.

"Can I ever repay you for what you've done for us?" Jonathan muttered.

"The life of a friend is nothing that you can repay. Though, I would settle to taste some of the food that was listed in your database. Something called 'ice cream with cookie dough' sounded quite interesting."

Captain Archer laughed quietly and gave Tapin a warm smile. "I think that can be arranged. I'll take you the Mess Hall where the ice cream is and let Doctor Phlox accompany Commander Tucker to our medical bay with Mr. Reed."

Malcolm nodded and carefully took one of Trip's arms and gently tossed it onto his shoulder. Phlox took the other arm as the scanner hummed quietly. The doctor glanced at the readings once, not at all pleased with what results he was receiving. Malcolm kept looking at Trip's downcast face, seeing the tears continue silently and his heart contracted painfully for his friend. Each step that Trip took caused him to wince and his breathing was labored. Lieutenant Reed should have suggested that a medical team help; he blamed himself. After about ten steps, Trip began to collapse, shaking terribly. Phlox and Malcolm each lifted one of his legs and carried him into sickbay.

"Commander, are you still with us?" Phlox asked as Malcolm hoisted Trip up on the scanning bed.

There was no response.

"Trip?" Malcolm questioned, moving Trip's head so he could look at him.

It was then that he realized how deathly silent Trip was. He had not spoken a word since he had returned from Captain Tapin's vessel: not to him, to Jonathan, to Phlox, or to his rescuers. Something was definitely wrong with him. Suddenly, a horrible thought crossed his mind and he hoped that whoever had done this hadn't harmed his vocal cords or throat in an effort to contain him. He couldn't stand not hearing Trip say that he was doing alright or make jokes or tease him about a certain linguist.

"Doctor, what's wrong with him? Why won't he speak?" Malcolm stuttered, watching as Phlox loaded some medication into a hypo-spray.

"I'm not sure Lieutenant, but he has a high fever. We need to remove the blanket and his clothing to begin lowering his body temperature. Fetch the small scissors from the top left hand drawer below the small console."

Malcolm quickly pulled the scissors out and returned to Phlox as Trip convulsed in pain, moaning softly. The doctor prepared the imaging chamber after injecting the medication into Commander Tucker's neck. Malcolm began the task of removing Trip's strange scrubs so Phlox could get right to work on helping him get better. He tried not to focus on the bruises and unhealed cuts on Trip's legs as he removed his pants, revealing his friends' Starfleet blues. Then he saw it. As he started to remove the shirt, he noticed the gruesome black and purple bruises on Trip's hips leading up part of his back and to his ribs. His ribs were sunken in some and he could almost see that two of them were broken. Trip's stomach had a nasty infected cut across the skin. It was a miracle that any of his clothing had survived whatever Trip went through. Malcolm covered his mouth, forcing himself not to be ill at the sight. Trip looked up at him, blinking away tears and attempting to lift a hand to wipe them away. Malcolm finished removing the clothing and gingerly dabbed the wet liquid from Trip's cheeks.

"You're going to be fine," Malcolm reassured. "You're safe with us and Phlox will do everything he can to make you feel better."

Trip didn't respond, but the younger man thought he saw a look of recognition in his eyes. It faded as the engineer closed his heavy eyes and Phlox put him into the chamber to scan his wounds. Malcolm walked across the room and slammed his hands down on a bio-bed in frustration. He failed Trip. Biting back a remark, he turned around and observed Phlox watching the scans appear.

"He was tortured," Malcolm stated.

"I believe so," Phlox replied quietly. He avoided eye contact, frowning at the screen displaying Trip's battered body. "I'll know more once I get him in a more stable condition."

"This shouldn't have been allowed to happen."

"You cannot blame yourself Lieutenant—"

"I was the last to speak to Commander Tucker when he was under attack and all I could do was sit there as he was taken hostage by the people that did this to him." Malcolm dropped his face into his hands. "I did a lousy job of protecting him."

"Mr. Reed, I've known you for two years and I doubt that you would ever intentionally let any of the crew be harmed, especially Captain Archer and Commander Tucker."

Lieutenant Reed didn't speak for a long moment as the imaging chamber finished its work. He looked up and watched the scans showing multiple contusions on Trip's body. Malcolm monitored the line that showed his friend's heartbeat, noting that the rhythm was irregular at times.

"I apologize Phlox… I've been under a lot of stress."

"Apology accepted. I know that this isn't a convenient time, but you should get some rest. There's little more that you can do right now until I analyze Mr. Tucker's scans and he will be highly sedated until then."

The lieutenant nodded, but didn't attempt to leave sickbay. He sat down on a bio-bed and watched, waiting patiently for Trip to come out of the imaging chamber. He realized that he needed the sleep, but he also needed to be near his friend while Captain Archer took care of their guests. It was his duty as a good friend, something he hadn't been doing the best at as of late. Phlox opened the chamber a few minutes later, pulling a blanket out and covering Trip with it before Malcolm could glimpse the injuries again. Malcolm saw that Trip's body temperature was slowly dropping, but his heart rate still wasn't correct. He could only wait for answers now. Phlox motioned for Mr. Reed to help him move Trip to a bio-bed. It took only one smooth motion to move his friend. It was hard to see his rips pushing up on his skin.

"Do you need any other assistance?" Malcolm asked.

"Not at the moment. I'll let you know, but you are welcome to pull up a chair and if I need something, you won't have to go far."

Malcolm nodded, sliding a chair over and sitting on it backwards. He watched Phlox as he carefully inserted an IV into Trip's hand to begin replenishing fluids. As he surveyed the Denobulan, he realized how precise and cautious the man was with his work. He didn't have to pause and consider things, but simply went to work cleaning Trip's wounds and rubbing ointment on his bruises. It was fascinating. With Phlox taking care of Commander Tucker, things were in good hands.

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_Please let me know what you think!_

_Emma_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Malcolm is mine. Okay, Trip is mine along with Archer and I have a really long nose that grows when I lie. See the dent on the computer screen from my nose?**

Author's note: Most of you were wondering why Phlox did not have a medical team waiting with a stretcher. The reason was because Phlox and Cutler were in the broom closet…. Okay, nevermind. Phlox and the others were unaware that Trip was such serious condition. The other doctor had trouble with Trip's physiology and didn't understand what would be causing pain and what was healthy due to his lack of knowledge. And as for Captain Tapin, he was just a minor character. He's a friendly transport Captain that does his moral duty and delivers parts to other species. He wasn't meant to be creepy. I imagined him as more of Travis's Dad. He's completely harmful. Thanks for your reviews and I hope that you keep reading!

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**Chapter 3**

Malcolm watched as Trip breathed uneasily and beads of sweat formed on his forehead again. He dabbed it away, sparing a single glance for the device on Trip's chest. It was barely the size of a communicator and Dr. Phlox was using it to monitor Trip's irregular heartbeat. It occasionally flashed a red light when his heart was off beat. He wished that Trip would wake up soon and talk to him, but Phlox still didn't want to wake him. It had been two hours, a long two hours. Captain Archer and T'Pol were saying good-bye to Captain Tapin and had called to say that they would be there for an update soon. Phlox was analyzing a blood sample of Commander Tucker's blood across sickbay. Malcolm glanced in his direction, unsure if he should contact him about the rise in Trip's body temperature again.

"Doctor?" he questioned.

"Yes, I see it. This infection is more potent then I previously thought it to be. I've analyzed part of it, but I'll still need some more time," Phlox answered, preparing a hypo-spray and coming to look at Trip's stats. "This should keep his fever down for a while."

Malcolm nodded, too worried about his friend to keep the doctor busy. The doors to sickbay slid open, admitting Captain Archer and T'Pol. Reed stood a little straighter as the two approached Trip's bio-bed. He immediately saw the emotion that Jonathan was attempting to conceal behind his eyes.

"How is he?" Jonathan's voice was slightly strained as he studied the rising and falling of Trip's chest.

"Commander Tucker is fighting a nasty infection, but I believe that I have it under control. I have found two substances in his blood that I haven't identified, along with a compound that is known to cause fever spikes and nausea, which we will probably see when he wakes up. I've sedated him for now. Along with the substances in his blood, the commander has two broken ribs, severe bruising on his hips and lower back, numerous cuts and other bruises, an infected cut across his abdomen, and malnutrition, accompanied by dehydration," Phlox reported. "Sir, it's a miracle that he survived. I doubt he was in sanitary conditions."

Jonathan rubbed his hands over his to hide his distress. Even T'Pol seemed uncomfortable with the situation. Trip moaned softly in his drug-affected sleep, causing Jon to look at him again.

"Captain Tapin told me that some of the other prisoners had been used for some type of medical experiments and had toxins in their blood that eventually killed them. He didn't think that Trip was infected with those, but his doctor couldn't get a grasp on human physiology since their species is very different," Archer said, stepping closer to Trip and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I assure you Captain that Commander Tucker is out of the woods for now."

"Can I talk to him?"

Malcolm decided that this was a good time to note what he observed. "Sir, I don't know if that will be possible. When Commander Tucker was awake, I tried to get him to talk to me, but he would barely look at me. Phlox says that there is nothing wrong with his vocal cords. He just won't speak."

This seemed to be even more distressing for Captain Archer and the stress of the situation was really getting to him. Malcolm could tell that he was holding back his anger and it wasn't very well hidden. T'Pol, who hadn't spoken yet, moved slightly catching Jon's attention.

"Do you have a rough estimate of when he will wake up?" she inquired.

"It'll be quite a few more hours. I wouldn't suggest waking him at this point. If he could speak, I doubt that Mr. Tucker would make much sense due to his infection and the medications he's on."

"I should have done more!" Jonathan exclaimed, banging his fist down on the adjacent bio-bed that Malcolm had hit a while before.

"Sir, you did your best to find Commander Tucker," T'Pol injected in a calm voice. "No one is to blame. If you would like, I can help Doctor Phlox analyze the toxins in his system to help the recovery process."

Jonathan nodded, running his hands over the stubble on his face. He was torn up inside and his heart was bleeding for his best friend. Placing his hands on the bio-bed to stabilize himself, he listened to the sickbay doors open and close. Phlox spoke again, causing him to turn around to hear him.

"We should minimize the contact that the commander has with the other members of the crew until he says that he's ready. Pushing him could lead to different issues. It will take lots of time for him to heal."

"Will he be the same Trip again?" Malcolm whispered.

"I'm afraid I cannot answer that question."

**

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**

"Anything new?" Jonathan asked, sitting down next to Malcolm. He had stopped into the Mess Hall to grab some coffee while Trip remained unconscious.

"Nothing. I do believe that Phlox might be becoming annoyed with my asking," Malcolm replied, taking a cup of the steaming liquid from his CO. He didn't normally drink coffee, preferring tea over the taste of the dark-brown liquid, but he needed the caffeine to stay awake. The man took a sip before glancing to see the tired look on Jonathan's face. "What did you find out from Captain Tapin?"

"Plenty; much more than I wanted to know. He was held captive by a species called the Diquna. They are a pirate-like species that prey upon small vessels and torture information out of the crew. After that… they kill them."

Malcolm shook his head at the barbaric acts, angry with the strange aliens they'd never met. "What happened to them when Captain Tapin arrived?" he asked.

"Most of them were killed, but a few were captured. Another species dealt with them according to Tapin. They were the judge and lawyer all in one. No one will have to deal with that group again. I don't like what they did, but…"

Jonathan glanced in Trip's direction and that action spoke volumes. He hated what they had done to his best friend, but he didn't want to kill them. They both watched him breath uneasily as the light on the heart monitor lit up again. His fever had finally broken, but Dr. Phlox had yet to figure out why the commander's heart was irregular. T'Pol was helping him and together they had almost developed a cure to one of the substances in Trip's blood. Captain Archer had ordered T'Pol to rest and work on the problem in the morning. It was two in the morning, but neither Malcolm nor Jonathan could find any rest. Sighing, Malcolm rubbed his tired face again and took another sip of his coffee. A small bark alerted him to the fact that Jonathan had brought a guest with him. Porthos gave him a dog grin and curled up at the lieutenant's feet.

"You must look like you need a friend," Jonathan tried to joke. The smile stayed for a moment before it faded when Trip groaned.

He stood up and walked over to his friend, placing a hand on his. Malcolm followed him over, almost smiling when Porthos followed him. Trip stirred slightly, but remained asleep. Jonathan looked up at his stats, frowning as he saw that Trip still wasn't in a good condition. Malcolm placed a hand on Trip's shoulder, keeping his eyes down and not focusing on the face that shown such pain and suffering. The two men stepped away and went back to their previous positions. Malcolm glanced back at Trip as he picked up his coffee cup and suddenly froze. Ever so slightly, Trip had lifted his hand and his eyes peeked open.

"Captain," Malcolm exclaimed.

Jonathan turned around and caught the eyes of his best friend. He moved over to Trip's side and touched his hand. The engineer didn't make a sound, but simply looked into Captain Archer's eyes. Doctor Phlox quickly came over and began to check the man's bio-stats. Trip blinked heavily, struggling to stay awake and fighting exhaustion. He let out a few uneven breaths and his lips moved a tiny bit, but no sound came out. Malcolm slowly approached, unsure if Trip would even want him there.

"How are you feeling Commander?" Phlox asked.

Trip looked over at him and again his lips moved without sound. Phlox pulled out his scanner and observed the man's vocals cords. Again, he asked Trip to speak, but nothing came out.

"Trip…" Jonathan muttered, holding his friend's hand tight.

Commander Tucker gave a look over at Malcolm and then lost consciousness again. His hand stayed tight in Jon's for a moment before it went limp. Malcolm ran his fingers through his hair and looked away, walking back to his chair and falling into it. Jonathan came up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Malcolm nodded, willing to accept the contact for a brief moment.

"Give him a little more time Malcolm. He knows that we won't leave him and hopefully he won't leave us," Archer reassured. He gave Malcolm's hand a squeeze and returned to his chair and put the coffee cup in his hands to hide his shaking hands. Sleep deprivation and lack of nutrition were beginning to catch up with him.

Malcolm followed suit with his cup and the two both watched the shadow of their best friend, desperate for him to wake up and be okay.

**

* * *

**

He couldn't realize why it wasn't possible to roll over. Normally Porthos wasn't sleeping on his bed. Jonathan attempted to move again and felt something warm and soft at his fingertips. Opening his eyes, Jon hurried to a sitting position and in his haste, fell off the bio-bed taking Malcolm along with him. They had been sleeping on a bio-bed together with Malcolm curled into a ball and Jonathan using Malcolm's butt for a pillow. The Lieutenant appeared quite confused and rubbed the elbow that had smacked the floor.

"Were we…?" Malcolm began, imagining them cuddling together in bed.

"Yes, but…" Captain Archer muttered.

"Did anyone see…?"

"I don't think so."

A soft moan alerted them to the awareness of someone else. Trip was looking down at them with a glint in his eyes that could almost be amusement. Malcolm and Jonathan scrambled to their feet. It was still early in the morning and Phlox was hiding in one of his numerous places. Commander Tucker stared up at the ceiling as Jonathan touched his hand to get him to look at him. Malcolm stood beside Captain Archer and didn't dare touch his friend to comfort him.

"Trip… can you hear me?" Jonathan whispered.

There was a soft sound, but it didn't sound much like speech. Trip sighed and closed his eyes again.

"Please say something."

Trip began to tremble and Phlox appeared out of nowhere to check his stats.

"What time is it?" Malcolm asked, trying to grasp how long he might have been in an embarrassing situation with his captain.

"It's about four in the morning. You were only asleep about an hour." The doctor analyzed the stats and pulled out his scanner and ran it over Trip's legs. "He's suffering from muscle spasms; a result of the medication and lying still for so long."

The three of them carefully began to massage his legs. Malcolm still felt ill at the sight of the bandages on Trip's legs and the bruises. After a few minutes, Trip began to relax and opened his eyes again. A tear fell from his eyes and Malcolm quickly wiped it away with the corner of the blanket. Trip's hand slowly lifted off of the blanket and he grabbed Malcolm's hand weakly. Malcolm held tight as his hand fell back to the bed. It had been his duty to protect him. Trip's eyes focused on his face, scrutinizing each mark of the stressful weeks that it took to find out that Trip had been found. They hadn't tried hard enough. Doctor Phlox changed the IV bag and administered more medication while Trip was distracted. Malcolm watched him swallow painfully and part his lips again.

"Jon…" The voice was faint and sickly, but Trip had spoken.

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_Please review!_

_Emma_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Enterprise belongs to Paramount, not me.**

Italics are Trip's thoughts and his dream. Thanks for the reviews! Keep telling me what you think! Thank you! Enjoy the chapter!

**

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**

**Chapter 4**

"Trip, are you okay?" Jonathan asked, leaning closer to hear the soft voice.

Commander Tucker shook his head as his skin turned pale and he turned his face away from his friends, dry heaving and trying to sit up. Jonathan held him still and attempted to keep him still so he didn't injure himself any further. Malcolm helped him, internally grimacing at the sight. Trip finally calmed down and lay back down. He gasped several times before speaking again. It was too quiet and no one could hear him. Malcolm silently prayed for him. Trip closed his eyes again and attempted to bite back the pain and swallow the memories. It was too soon and he couldn't. The man shook his head no again and rested his head back against the bed. Malcolm sighed, giving his friend's hand a squeeze. Tears pooled in Trip's eyes and he attempted to blink them away, but didn't have the strength.

"It's okay. We aren't going to leave you," Malcolm found himself reassuring.

Trip gave an almost smile before looking over at Jonathan. His shoulders shook as the tears leaked out. Doctor Phlox prepared a hypo-spray and injected it into Trip's neck after placing a comforting hand gently on his shoulder.

"It's best if he continues to sleep for now. His physical wounds will heal faster if he's not upset or moving around," Phlox declared, adjusting the blanket to cover Trip better so he didn't get cold. "It'll take a long time before he heals the emotional wounds."

Malcolm nodded, not willing to release Trip's limp hand. Jonathan placed a hand on the lieutenant's shoulders to let him know that it was okay. Phlox ushered them away from the bio-bed and pulled the curtain closed to let Trip rest in peace and quiet. He informed them that Trip would sleep until the morning and that if they didn't get some rest, he would force them. Knowing that Phlox would carry it out, Jonathan and Malcolm bid each other a few hours of sleep. Malcolm walked slowly back to his quarters and sat down on his bed, not bothering to undress or get out his nightclothes.

_There are always things we can do to change our lives. Change… it's too hard to deal with if we stay the same._

That was what Trip told him one night over a bottle of bourbon in his quarters. Malcolm pressed his face into his hands, trying to control the emotion that threatened to escape from his body. Anger and hate at those that hurt his best friend. The raw emotion was eating away at him as he began to shake. He wanted to kill those aliens, punish them for what they had done. Malcolm jumped to his feet and paced around his quarters, slamming his hands against his bed a few times. After a few minutes, the fury began to melt and Malcolm sat down on his bed. In his haste, he missed and tumbled to the floor. Taking fists full of hair, he rocked back and forth. What had he done to let this happen? Choking back the sadness, Malcolm looked up at the ceiling and tried to clear his thoughts. He refused to let the guilt take him. Trip needed him now; more than ever and he intended on helping him, giving everything of himself to do it.

**

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**

"_Where do you come from?" his captor demanded as Trip writhed in pain on the floor of his cell. "Tell me!"_

_Trip hollared in pain as his stomach felt like it was disconnected from his body. He threw up on the floor and coughed violently. The guard moved close to him and hit him with the whip, drawing blood that mixed with Trip's sweat. It was freezing in the room and even the guards were showing signs of being too cold. Trip wished that Jonathan would come and save him. He couldn't take the pain!_

"_I won't tell you anything," Trip snarled, choking on blood in his throat and trying to clear it by spitting on the vile man._

"_Then you'll die!" the leader yelled as the whip came down and a scream of agony came from Trip's mouth._

Trip bolted to a sitting position, gasping in pain as his hips throbbing. He threw the blanket off of his legs and tried to get off the bio-bed. Phlox and Malcolm were there before he could and gently pushing him back down. Trip coughed as he pulled his knees to his chest, protecting himself from the memories. Most of what happened was hazy, but a few of his haunting memories had returned as he slept. He lay back down on the bed and watched as Malcolm focused on him, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze. The guilt had faded from his eyes that Trip had seen earlier that morning with Jonathan. His friend must blame himself, but for now… he was just taking care of him.

"Are you alright Commander?" Malcolm inquired as Phlox checked his IV and the monitors on the screen.

_Trip. Please just call me Trip. _

He attempted to roll over and look away from his friend, but wasn't able to move that way due to the wires and IV in his hand. The commander pulled his hands to his chest and he suddenly felt the bump there. He pulled the sickbay shirt down a little, looking at the strange monitor over his heart that flashed a tiny red light.

"I'm monitoring your heart," Doctor Phlox told him. "It's been irregular since you arrived and this is keeping it consistently beating."

Trip nodded weakly. He wished that everything would stop hurting and that he was alone in his quarters, but he knew that Phlox wouldn't release him for a long time. Malcolm, thinking that Trip wasn't looking, rubbed his face in his hands to wipe away the pending emotions. Tucker wanted to comfort his friend, but he didn't know how to anymore. He'd lost himself in that prison and the man that he was wasn't going to come back. He was still weeping in a cell over the body of a child and over everything that he couldn't seem to recall.

_I wish it didn't hurt so much._

An alarm went off on the screen and Trip grimaced. He'd stopped breathing for a moment too long and the computer didn't agree with his actions. Phlox gently rolled him over and made sure that he was still breathing. Trip nodded once and closed his eyes, imagining Engineering and his staff. Methodically he began to focus on the warp drive, breaking down the components in his mind to keep his thoughts from the pain. Phlox put a hypo-spray into his neck, causing Trip to open his eyes, curious what it was for.

"It was for the pain, Commander," Phlox reassured as Trip wondered if Denobulans could read minds. The doctor went back to work somewhere in sickbay, leaving Malcolm alone with Trip.

Malcolm pulled a chair over and took a seat. Trip could see the exhaustion in his eyes, lurking behind the mask that was Lieutenant Reed. He watched his friend pull out a pad, rubbing his eyes for a second. Trip knew that Malcolm should be working on bridge duty or in the armory right now, not sitting next to his weak friend. He ignored those thoughts and watched him read. His face shown such stress and tension that Trip wished he could fix it. Gasping, he laid his head down and tried to focus and slow his heart down. It was thumping quickly and was slightly uncomfortable. Malcolm looked over at him with concern etched into his features.

"Are you alright?"

Trip nodded again, feeling such uselessness for his own body. He wanted desperately to tell Malcolm that he was going to be okay, but he couldn't believe it himself. It would take a long time before he could. If ever.

"Mal…" he managed to say before going into a coughing fit.

"Trip… just relax. I'm not going anywhere."

"You… okay?"

Malcolm paused for a moment before speaking in a soft voice that only Trip would be able to make out. "I'm… fine. I'll be better when you are."

Trip sighed once before falling asleep again, this time with images of Malcolm beside him and keeping him safe. His friend would keep the nightmares away for a little bit; though it still wouldn't be enough.

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_Please review!_

_Emma_


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Enterprise belongs to Paramount and Ensign Mueller belongs to volley.**

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**Chapter 5**

Another breathless moment; something was pushing on Trip's chest and all he could do was gasp and thrash about as the life drained from his body. Snapping open his eyes, Trip bit down hard on his lip to keep from screaming. He must remain silent or they would come for him. Placing a hand on his heart, he attempted to roll over and escape from Doctor Phlox's assistance. The angry voice from his nightmare wouldn't disappear and he could see that he was making Malcolm uneasy. Mr. Reed put a hand gently on his shoulder. Trip jerked away from his touch, realizing too late that it would upset his friend. He'd remembered something in this dream. He could feel the harness digging into his hips and the pressure pushing on his lungs. It was excruciating and caused him to cough just thinking of the inability to draw breath fully.

Trip had been home on Enterprise for three days, ill and silent in sickbay. Nothing was really improving. Phlox had discovered that the last unknown toxin in his system wasn't breaking down and it was causing his wounds to take longer to heal. Malcolm was doing most of his work from sickbay, sneaking off the armory at night to finish his tasks. Jonathan was busy with Starfleet, who was curious about receiving a report from Commander Tucker. It just wasn't possible at this time. Malcolm sighed, sitting down again.

"He's not getting any better," the lieutenant muttered to Phlox.

Doctor Phlox motioned for him to come to the other side of the room as Trip pulled his blanket tighter. Malcolm gave his friend's shoulder a gentle squeeze and followed the doctor. He steadied himself on the lone chair, looking down at the deck plating.

"Would a change of scenery help?" Malcolm asked, glancing over at his trembling friend. "I could take him to my quarters for a night to see if it helps him."

"Lieutenant, Commander Tucker still needs monitored closely. It would be a lot of work. I'm not sure if I would be comfortable—"

"Doctor, he's my friend. I can take care of him."

The Denobulan seemed to contemplate this thoroughly before making any decisions. He gave a small smile at Malcolm. "We could have to discuss this with Captain Archer, but you probably have a good idea. I would like to have him eat some food before we move him to see if he can stomach it."

Malcolm nodded and returned to Trip's side, slowly guiding him onto his back and hoping that he would relax. "How would you like to spend a night with me, free from sickbay? I can't promise any women or alcohol but we could maybe watch a good move. I'll let you pick one."

Trip gave a small smile and nodded his head.

"But first the doctor would like to see if you can eat something. Think you can do that?"

His friend didn't reply, but gave Malcolm a skeptical look. Doctor Phlox went to the mess hall to find something simple for him while the lieutenant paged Captain Archer. Jonathan came quickly, even though he knew it wasn't an emergency. Trip smiled pleasantly at his close friend, even lifting up the IV hand to take Jon's. They both listened as Malcolm explained his idea for Trip to see someplace other than sickbay and seemed pleased with the thoughts. Phlox returned with some chicken noodle soup and a glass of cold water. It took two tries to get Trip sitting up in the bed, since he fell the first time groaning. His hands weren't strong enough to hold the spoon and he kept dropping it. Trip blushed when Jonathan offered to help him.

"It's okay to need help Trip," Jonathan murmured, helping him take a bit of the liquid.

Trip looked pale for a moment as his stomach decided if it could keep the food down. After a few minutes, he motioned for another bite and took a sip of the water. Phlox stated that Trip should remain in sickbay until at least seven to make sure that he kept it down and got the nutrients.

"Malcolm, you don't have to do this," Jonathan said, pulling him to the side as Phlox checked some of Trip's wounds in preparation for the overnight.

"Sir… I would really like to do this. Trip needs to be free, to regain some sense of his old life," he responded. "He can't find that in sickbay, no matter how much he enjoys Phlox. It's not enough."

"I understand. Mind if I stop by for a bit then?"

"That would be great, Captain."

Jonathan patted his arm and walked back over to Trip. Malcolm excused himself, heading to the armory to get some work done before seven. Ensign Mueller was working on the alignment when Mr. Reed entered and gave him a strange look. Malcolm pulled a pad off his desk from the mess and went to stand beside him.

"Is everything alright Sir?" Mueller asked, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"Yes. Commander Tucker hasn't changed much today, though he did manage to eat some food a little while ago."

"That's good, sir. Do you think he will be up for visitors anytime soon? Crewman Kelly has been inquiring about his health. The whole engineering crew wouldn't mind getting a chance to see him."

Malcolm glanced over at his SIC and tried to put on a happy face, but it fell after a moment. "Doctor Phlox hasn't decided when Mr. Tucker will be up to other visitors."

"Understandable sir."

Lieutenant Reed went back to work, climbing down and into one of the conduits that housed the phase canons to do routine maintenance to distract himself from his other tasks. He worked there until six. Malcolm returned to his quarters, cleaning up the pile of clothing from that morning and taking a quick shower. He didn't want to do it later and have to leave Trip alone. A crewman had brought a cot to his room on Captain Archer's orders. Malcolm pulled the extra blankets from underneath his bed and laid them on the cot. He would sleep there so Trip could be comfortable.

"Phlox to Mr. Reed," the voice called over the intercom.

"Reed here."

"Your guest is ready for you. If you would like to accompany him to your quarters, we will be leaving in a few minutes."

"Understood. I'll be right there."

Malcolm rushed to sickbay, smiling when he saw Trip was standing up beside Phlox. The stubborn man refused to be moved on a stretcher or a wheelchair. Malcolm took his other arm and together they walked to his quarters. Most of the crew was busy and they luckily didn't see anyone in the corridors. Phlox let Trip get settled on Malcolm's bed before returning to sickbay to get some supplies for Malcolm in case he needed them. Trip didn't say a word, sitting propped up against the bulkhead. Malcolm wasn't sure if he should sit beside him or help him lie down.

"Malcolm…" Trip choked out hoarsely.

"Yes, Trip. Do you need something?"

There was a pause before the man spoke again with an odd expression on his face.

"Can… I shower?"

Malcolm almost smacked himself in the head. Of course Trip would want to get clean. He should have had a bar installed in the shower or something to help him out. He didn't exactly want to take his friend into the shower, but he would if necessary. The doctor came back with a small medical kit and explained the things to Malcolm, but told him to contact him if anything happened that he couldn't handle. After assuring the doctor that he would, Phlox bid them good-night. Trip sighed and gave a weak smile when the door swished closed.

"So, do you need me to help you? First, are you hungry at all?" Malcolm asked, sitting down on his desk chair, feeling slightly awkward.

"No…" Trip responded.

Malcolm gave him a knowing look and a smile. "You are starting to sound like me Trip. Let me help you. There's no shame in receiving assistance."

Trip nodded. Malcolm helped him remove the sickbay shirt, ignoring the bruises and cuts. He helped remove the heart monitor, taking note of where it went so he could place it there afterwards. The man remembered later that he should have told Dr. Phlox, but he didn't want to bother the doctor or Trip. He walked Trip into the bathroom in his pants and stared at the shower. It looked a bit daunting for someone that could barely keep their balance. But his friend was stubborn. Trip stepped into the shower and tossed his clothing over after a minute. Malcolm listened as the shower turned on, keeping his back turned to give his friend privacy. He was anxious, waiting for Trip to collapse. Yet, his worry was wasted for Trip remained upright and once the water turned off, he asked for his clothing. Phlox had sent fresh clothing with Trip and Malcolm wondered if he suspected that Trip would want clean.

"Thank you," Trip murmured as Malcolm replaced the heart monitor and guided him onto the bed.

This was the most that Malcolm had heard Trip speak since he returned and it warmed his heart. He nodded, pulling on Trip's sickbay shirt and digging out a pad with movies on it. He'd complied Trip's favorite movies and a few of his own personal favorites. The door chimed and Malcolm pressed the button before opening it.

"It's me," Jonathan answered. "I come bearing a gift."

Jon stepped into Malcolm's quarters dressed in his civilian clothing with a bottle of something in a brown paper bag.

"Sorry, it's not alcohol," Jonathan laughed, sitting down next to Trip. "I doubt that Phlox would let me mix that with your medication."

Trip smiled and watched as his friend pulled out a wine bottle with milk in it. He'd not been allowed to have milk and it was one of his favorite drinks. It was a perfect gift. Malcolm stepped into the bathroom and returned in his sweats. He quickly noticed that Trip was frowning and tears had pooled in his eyes. Jon was keeping a hand on his shoulder.

"It was horrible…" Trip gasped.

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_I hope that you can forgive me for the ending. Thanks for the kind responses! Please review!_

_Emma_


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Enterprise belongs to Paramount.**

_Warning: This chapter is a little bit gruesome and if you don't like blood… don't read too deeply._

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**Chapter 6**

Malcolm steadied his friend as Trip threw up into the basin that Phlox had luckily provided. Jonathan kept him from falling from the bed. Immediately after speaking, Trip began to convulse and throw up. He continued to shake, leaning back against Jonathan. Malcolm took the container away, cleaning it in the shower to remove the smell from his quarters. When he returned Trip was lying down on the bed, taking in deep breaths and looking around the room like a frightened child. He basically was a child dealing with this emotional trauma. Jonathan had slid off the bed and onto the floor, keeping his hands on Trip's. Maybe it was time to call for Doctor Phlox, but Malcolm knew that Trip would protest. The Denobulan probably already detected the change in Trip's heartbeat and was monitoring his other systems from sickbay, wondering when he could interfere. Hopefully, Phlox would wait a little longer. Trip needed his best friends to help him.

"Are you okay?" Jonathan asked, feeling his forehead to see if his friend had a fever.

"No… how can one overcome such death and… live again?" Trip murmured as tears spilled from his eyes.

"Trip… it's about living, not forgetting. You don't have to blame yourself for having life."

Trip nodded and closed his eyes. "It was always for information… where's my ship, what is my job… tell me how the ship runs, what are her weaknesses… I never wanted to tell them anything, but it would get really cold or warm. I couldn't eat the nasty meat they gave me. They put drugs in my system that kept me tired and sick… I couldn't stop them!" Trip's choked voice raised as his emotions took over and he sobbed loudly.

"Trip… I'm so sorry," Malcolm whispered, sitting beside Jonathan. "I wish that we could have gotten there sooner."

"Not… your fault." Trip managed to give him a half smile before it fell into a frown. "The worst part… not the drugs or the beating. They put me in a harness and hung me from the ceiling. It went around my hips, digging in deep and… it was hard to breathe. All night long I was hanging there and yelling, just wanting you to come for me. I was coughing up blood, it was cold and each minute… felt like an hour. I just wanted it all to end; in the morning I planned on telling them everything just so they could kill me and I wouldn't feel anything anymore."

Trip couldn't control himself as Malcolm took on the full effect of his friend's words. He had been tortured so badly that he wanted to simply end his life. Malcolm couldn't imagine the pain that he went through.

"So much death… there was a child, they killed her and when her mother saw her… I lost it. When I was rescued, all I could think of was finding a way to the airlock. I was sure that they would turn on me too. No one can be… trusted with life anymore. It's too precious. I don't deserve it."

"But you didn't, you were strong Trip," Malcolm assured, getting him to look in his eyes. "You didn't give up."

"But… the twelve people that died. It could have been me. There are blocks of time that I can't remember what I told them. I was so sick… and my heart kept racing."

"Your heart?" Jonathan interrupted carefully. Doctor Phlox had yet to figure out what was wrong with the commander's heart and was hoping that Trip would remember them doing something. "What did they do?"

"I don't… remember."

Trip's face turned pale and a green tinge colored his lips. Malcolm grabbed the basin in time as Trip lost the remainder of his meal from that morning. The next few things happened in quick succession that Malcolm could barely keep them clear in his mind. Jonathan moved to rub Trip's back to comfort him as he vomited, but as he moved Trip suddenly closed his mouth and placed his hands on his heart. A look of panic crossed his face and this time blood was mixed with the liquid from his stomach. Malcolm ran to the com and pressed the button, declaring a medical emergency. Cold sweat fell from Trip's brow as he gasped, trying to draw in air and hold himself together at the same time. It wasn't working. Jonathan and Malcolm's hands were covered in slimy blood as they moved him to a sitting position so he wouldn't choke.

"Trip!" Jonathan exclaimed as his friend started to lose consciousness. "Stay with me." His voice became keeper and husky as his emotion leaked out. "Phlox is on his way."

"Malcolm…" Trip muttered.

"Yes, Trip. I'm here. I won't leave you," Malcolm said firmly.

"I'm so sorry… I didn't want to… say anything."

Malcolm wasn't sure what was going on, but he didn't have the time to think about it as Trip yelled in pain, clutching his heart. Jonathan took Trip's wrist, listening to his friend's pulse that was erratic and far too fast for someone in Trip's condition. It was going as if he had just run a marathon. Where were Doctor Phlox and the medical team? Blood dribbled down from the corner of Trip's mouth and Malcolm used the blanket to wipe it away. Trip reached out and touched Malcolm's hand to let him know that he was still there as his eyes fought to stay open. Trip's body was far too warm for a human and it was disturbing. Jonathan gave Malcolm an anxious look, and he realized that his captain had detected the same thing. Trip moaned, closing his eyes and coughed up more blood. Jonathan kept Trip tight against him, murmuring that things were going to be okay and he just needed to hold on a little longer.

"I'm… so sorry Jon," Trip panted.

"It's okay. You're going to be okay. I promise."

"Tell T'Pol… that I'm sorry too."

"You can tell her yourself Trip," Jonathan said, giving his friend a smile.

Malcolm didn't take it in at first, but something wet was rolling down his captain's cheeks. Jonathan was crying. He didn't bother to wipe away the tears as Trip convulsed again. The doors to Malcolm's quarters opened and Doctor Phlox entered with two of his medical team behind him carrying a stretcher. Phlox had his scanner ready and quickly assessed the injuries.

"He's having a heart attack," the doctor announced. "Move him onto the stretcher. He needs immediate surgery."

"Sorry…" Trip muttered, coughing up even more blood.

"Try not to speak Commander."

The two medics lifted Trip off the bed and lay him down on the stretcher. Jonathan stood beside Malcolm's bed, not speaking but looking at the blood on his hands. There was so much of Trip's blood on the bed and the floor. It was a heartbreaking sight. Phlox ushered the medics towards sickbay. Malcolm and Jonathan followed behind, ignoring the stares of the crew that happen to see them covered in dark red and trailing an obviously ill Commander Tucker. They rushed into sickbay and everything was frantic. Medics prepared for Trip's surgery while others stabilized him and Doctor Phlox attempted to get him into the imagining chamber, which didn't seem like it was going to happen. He would have to rely on his scanner to discover the cause. After that idea fell, Trip was moved into a different part of sickbay where they couldn't see him, but Malcolm and Jonathan could still hear him moaning in pain.

"There is some clean clothing in the deacon chamber, Captain, Lieutenant. I suggest cleaning up in the showers before emerging. I'll let you know of any developments as soon as I can," Phlox ordered, slipping into the intensive care part of sickbay that he was using as the operating room.

The door closed bringing a heavy silence upon the room. A young medic began to clean up the blood left by Commander Tucker and pick up the things that had been knocked over in the frenzy. Malcolm didn't move. Trip could be dying and all he could do was stand still, looking at Trip's blood on his hands. There was no guilt, just a sadness that penetrated his heart and the seal around his deepest emotions. He couldn't do anything to help Trip right now and it was extremely painful. Jonathan brought him from his stupor by laying a hand on his shoulder. Captain Archer looked like hell. He'd known Commander Tucker for over eight years now and his best friend was suffering and he couldn't save him.

"We should follow the doctor's orders," he whispered.

The two silently walked into the deacon chamber and pulled sickbay scrubs from the drawers. It was their only option unless they wanted to return to their quarters and that was not an option with Trip knocking on death's door.

"Phlox won't let anything happen to him."

Malcolm wasn't sure if Jonathan was attempting to convince him or himself. Either way… Jonathan handed Malcolm a towel and went towards the showers in the back. Realizing that he hadn't said anything, Malcolm caught eyes with his captain as he removed his shoes. There was a slight nod and he slipped into the shower. Malcolm slipped off his boots and stepped into the other shower. The warm water cascaded off his hands, washing the blood into the drain. It took a moment for Malcolm to comprehend that he was standing in Trip's blood. He grabbed the bar of soap and began to scrub his skin until it turned pink. Only when Malcolm was clean did he lean against the side of the shower and free his emotions, letting them blend with the water.

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_Thanks for reading! Please leave a review!_

_Emma_


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own this. Enterprise belongs to Paramount.**

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**Chapter 7**

Waiting. There was nothing that made time move faster when one was desperately waiting for time itself. Malcolm sighed, rubbing his face again. He glanced over at a sleeping Jonathan and wished that he was able to fall asleep. Doctor Phlox had been in the operating room for over six hours. There was no news about Trip. Phlox had come out once, but he hadn't said a word and only grabbed more supplies. Seeing the blood on the doctor's shirt had caused Malcolm to feel nauseous, but watching Jonathan's face pale had changed his mind. Jonathan's best friend was in danger and he needed Malcolm to be strong for him. Not long after that, Jon had fallen asleep in his chair. Sickbay was silent; even Phlox's animals knew that this was the time for quiet.

The doors to sickbay slid open and admitted T'Pol. It almost seemed if she was uncomfortable by her formal stance at a time like this. She spotted him and silently walked over.

"Is there any word from Doctor Phlox on Commander Tucker's condition?" T'Pol inquired, looking in the direction of the intensive care unit.

"Not yet. It's been six hours with no news. Phlox emerged once, but he didn't say anything; just grabbed some supplies and went back in." Malcolm couldn't help the frustration that leaked into his voice. The lack of sleep was wearing on him.

"There is a human expression that no news is good news."

He nodded, not wanting to say the remark that was on his tongue. It would have been rude and probably cause alarm from his superior officer. Instead Malcolm fetched the last chair and pulled it up near him so she could have a place to sit. T'Pol took the offered seat, giving him a glance as she sat down. He felt as if she was examining his mental condition by taking in his sickbay attire and the bags under his eyes. Sleep wasn't a priority right now.

"When is the last time that you received adequate nutrition or rest?" T'Pol questioned after several long minutes had passed.

"I'm not sure, a few days ago. It's not been the best time for me."

"I can stay if you would like to get some food from the mess hall."

Malcolm vehemently shook his head. "That's alright. I'm not planning on leaving until I know for sure what's going on with Commander Tucker. I have to make sure that he's alright."

T'Pol didn't respond, nor did she bring up the subject again. Sickbay felt like a graveyard with no sunlight, only overcast skies and downfallen faces. Yet, even mourners make some noise or show emotion and Malcolm made not a sound.

"How are you feeling?" the Vulcan tried again.

"Excuse me, Sub-Commander?" Malcolm responded, unsure of what T'Pol was trying to do; if she was making light conversation or inquiring seriously.

"I have been trying to understand the emotions of humans in different circumstances. So far, I have observed many variants; anger, jealousy, joy, excitement and even remorse. Captain Archer has even shown me how disappointment affects the relationships when death occurs in the case of his colleague A.G. Robinson. Experience has taught me that humans tend to find talking about an issue is helpful. I was inquiring if you needed someone to listen to you."

Malcolm shifted uncomfortably, glancing in Jonathan's direction and confirming that he hadn't woken up. He looked down at his hands, then crossing his arms across his chest. "I don't blame myself for this incident. I don't have the energy for it right now."

T'Pol didn't reply and they went back to waiting in the stillness. Almost an hour passed and Malcolm found himself dozing lightly on the back of his chair. He jerked awake as the ICU door opened and Doctor Phlox came out. Jonathan made a small noise and opened his eyes, quickly sitting up and looking alert. The Denobulan came over to them and Malcolm realized that he was still wearing a shirt covered in Trip's blood. All of that blood and the blood from his quarters were too much and it worried him. Trip couldn't afford to lose that much blood since he was so ill. Phlox washed his hands in the sink with a worried look on his face. Jonathan jumped up from his chair almost falling over.

"Is Trip alright?" Jon demanded, anxiety leaking into his voice.

"Commander Tucker is in a coma. I have stabilized his bio-signs, but there's not much else I can do at the moment. I found something in his heart that didn't belong, which was the reason that I had to operate immediately." Phlox held up a small metallic device with strange ridges across the surface. "It appears to have been cloaked, but when Commander Tucker suffered the heart attack, it could no longer compensate and hide anymore. I believe it was used to create the irregular heartbeat I've been unable to fix. Once Mr. Tucker's heart rate accelerated, it was used to slow it down and if the heart didn't slow down… it was meant to cause heart failure."

Jonathan rested his elbows on the nearest bio-bed, rubbing his face in his hands. It was a heart-breaking sight. Malcolm crossed his arms across his chest and kept his eyes on the floor. T'Pol, too, seemed uncomfortable for a Vulcan.

"Is he going to be okay?" Malcolm choked out.

"I'm not sure. We'll have to see if he survives the next twenty-four hours. If not…"

There wasn't much hope; everything was left in the unspoken words. Phlox went to clean up the intensive care unit and help the other medics with Trip. Malcolm couldn't think of anything to say or do and found himself standing next to his captain. Both were too upset to speak. The doctor emerged from the back of sickbay again and Malcolm walked over to his side.

"Can I see him for a few minutes?"

"You may visit for a few minutes, but only one person at a time. I'd like to keep him in the intensive care unit for privacy and to help monitor him."

Malcolm nodded and walked back towards the door. He'd only been there once when his leg had been impaled when the mine attacked him. The other medics left the room, having finished cleaning up when Malcolm entered. It was a horrifying sight to see Trip. Tubes and wires were connected to the bandages on his heart. A breathing tube was the attached beneath his nose; the focal point of his pale face. Malcolm could tell that Trip was breathing shallowly, even with the assistance of the machine. An IV went from his hand to a bag full of liquid, marked with words that he couldn't read. It was a shadow of the man that he knew. When Trip had returned from the prison, he'd looked better than this. Malcolm hated the aliens that did this to his friend, but he knew his anger wouldn't help anything. He sat down in the only chair and moved it beside Trip.

"I'm so sorry," Malcolm murmured.

Reaching up, the lieutenant placed his hand on Trip's to let him know that he was there. It was unnaturally cold, but still had a little warmth to it. Malcolm gently rubbed the skin, hoping the warm him up some. He doubted that his friend was conscious of what was happening around him, but Malcolm needed the contact to keep from breaking down again.

"Sometimes life just sucks," he whispered. "You can make it through this Trip. Captain Archer and I will be with you the entire time. Even T'Pol showed up today. You have good friends here; friends that don't want to see you disappear."

"He's right." Malcolm hadn't heard Jonathan come in quietly behind him. "We're here for you, Trip."

They sat together for a few long minutes before Doctor Phlox interrupted and ushered them from the room to give him some peace while he performed a few tests on Trip's blood. There was nothing else that they could do, but wait. Again, it seemed like the entire universe was waiting at some point for something; waiting for Trip once more.

**

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**

Malcolm flipped through the armory reports, not really reading what he was on the pad. Trip was still in a coma and it had been twelve hours since the surgery ended. Jonathan had locked himself in his ready room for the time being and T'Pol remarked once about the sound of his water polo ball being thrown at the wall. He glanced over at his friend, wishing that he could wake him. He thought of the childhood prank of putting someone's hand in water, but he doubted that it would wake him up. It hadn't worked on his sister either. The door opened, admitting Phlox with a plate of food.

"You should eat something Lieutenant," Phlox suggested.

"I'm fine," Malcolm replied, keeping his eyes on the pad.

"You are losing weight Lieutenant, it's not healthy."

He nodded, still not looking at him.

"Mr. Reed, please come over here." Phlox was giving him an order and in his sickbay, he had the authority to. "I brought you rotini pasta, mashed potatoes and green beans. It's a healthy combination."

Malcolm stood up and came over to where he had placed the plate on a cart. It looked edible and his stomach rumbled softly at the smell. The doctor pulled his chair over and checked on Trip's stats while Malcolm ate quietly.

"Anything new?" Malcolm inquired, taking another bite.

"Commander Tucker's heart rate has increased slightly, but not enough for him to be out of danger yet. Give him a little more time. I'm doing all that I can."

Malcolm nodded and returned to his meal. The door opened, surprising him and he glanced up at the new occupant. It was T'Pol. Her arms were crossed across her chest and in one hand she held a pad. Malcolm stood up and nodded to her. She walked over to Commander Tucker, observing the slight rising and falling of his chest.

"Good afternoon Sub-Commander; is there anything we can do for you?" the Denobulan greeted. "I'm afraid that Mr. Tucker's condition hasn't improved much since this morning."

"May I have some time alone with Commander Tucker?" T'Pol asked. "If you are busy I can come back at another time."

"Not at all, go ahead. I'll be just out the door if you need me."

Phlox walked towards the door, and Malcolm took the hint to follow him. He carried the plate, thinking of ways to hide it so he didn't have to finish the food. They exited quietly and T'Pol was left alone with Trip, to speak about something that only the angels would know about.

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_Thank you, please review!! Special note for Alelou: I hope this chapter had more T'Pol for you; sorry that it was a little lacking. And thanks to lunaz since I can't reply to anonymous reviews! Leave me a review!_

_Emma_


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Enterprise belongs to Paramount, not me.**

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**Chapter 8**

Every inch of his body was throbbing, but at least the tightening in his chest was gone and he could finally breathe easy again. Trip listened to the sounds around him, not quite ready to open his eyes. He could clearly see the images of pain on Jonathan and Malcolm's faces in his mind. They had been so terrified when he started to throw up blood and moan in pain as his heart contracted. He didn't want to see them yet. Faintly, Trip could hear the sound of his own heartbeat through the monitor. Everything else was quiet. Then Trip's ears picked up the sound of someone coughing quietly. He wasn't alone. Biting back the fear, Trip slowly opened his eyes. His vision was hazy for a moment and he blinked, trying to figure out where he was. At first all he could see were the wires coming from a heavy bandage on his chest. Lifting his hand, he felt the breathing tube on his face and Trip wanted to pull it out.

"That's not a good idea Trip," the accented voice teased.

Malcolm was seating on a chair beside him, flipping through a comic book and it looked as if he hadn't slept in a long time. A rough smile had caught the corners of his mouth, pulling them up slightly. Malcolm took Trip's hand and gentled removed it from his face.

"How are you feeling?"

"I feel like a shuttle pod landed on me and then flew away, only to come back and land on me again."

Malcolm laughed softly, shaking his head and closing the comic. "I doubt you should feel much better than that. You gave us quite a scare."

Trip tried to remember what happened, but parts of his capture were still fuzzy. He didn't recall them doing anything to his heart, but that didn't mean he wasn't drugged and made to forget. It was probably good that he couldn't remember. The last memory on Enterprise he'd had was of being taken into this room and Doctor Phlox looming above him with worry etched into his features before everything faded.

"What did they do to me?" he asked, trying to keep the emotion from his voice, but some choked out.

"They put a cloaked device in one of the chambers of your heart. If your heartbeat rose too much, it would cause your heart rate to be irregular. It seems that it was also designed to cause heart failure when it couldn't stop your heart from speeding up. You had a heart attack in my quarters and the device malfunctioned, making it visible to Phlox's scanners. He had no choice but to operate."

"How long did the surgery last?"

"Seven hours; Captain Archer, T'Pol and I waited in sickbay. You've been in a coma for two days. Doctor Phlox didn't know if you would survive, but after twelve hours you slowly began to stabilize."

Trip nodded, looking over at the IV connected to his hand and wished that Phlox would come to give him more medication. He glanced over at Malcolm again, who was sitting with his hand on his forehead. These past days hadn't been good to him; he didn't appear healthy and seemed to be exhausted. The door to the ICU slid open, admitting Doctor Phlox and a pale Jonathan. They both had smiles on their faces, though it seemed as if Jon could fall asleep at any second. The Denobulan went to work checking Trip's stats and administering some more pain reliever into his bloodstream. He relaxed slightly, feeling so much lighter knowing that his heart was mending and that the truth was out in the open. Well, his heart was healing physically. He still had a long way to go before the nightmares would stop coming and he could begin to heal emotionally. Trip gave Jonathan a warm smile, feeling the first true happiness he'd felt since he arrived back on Enterprise.

"How are you feeling?" Jonathan inquired, giving Trip's hand a squeeze.

"Much better. I feel like I could take on a ship of Klingons," Trip attempted to joke.

"That's probably Phlox's special drugs talking, not you," Malcolm replied with a smile on his face.

"Probably is, but it sure is nice."

Phlox checked the IV bag. "Do you feel up to a little water? The last toxin in your blood that was connected to the device in your heart and your nausea has been removed from your body. Once you become well enough hydrated, I'll be able to remove the IV."

Trip nodded and Phlox poured him a glass of water from the pitcher on the nightstand next to the bio-bed. The water wasn't very cold, but it felt good on his parched throat and for once he didn't feel like tossing his cookies so to speak. Phlox only let him have a small drink before setting the glass on the nightstand again.

"How do you feel?" Phlox asked; the third person to ask in five minutes.

"Absolutely wonderful, but I could take a long nap."

"I'm not sure how you can sleep so much," Malcolm teased.

"You should probably sleep more Cap'n and you too Mal," Trip slurred, closing his eyes as the medication kicked in fully. "You guys look like crap."

"The coffee calling the kettle black," Jon muttered under his breath. "We'll try to get some sleep, but you better keep getting better." Trip heard the small choke in his voice and realized how much he'd hurt his friend by not letting Jon help him through this. He vowed never to do it again. "You promise?"

"Of course Jon," Trip whispered. "I promise."

"The Commander needs more rest," Phlox declared. "You can both visit him tomorrow after he's had more sleep. He's out of danger now. I strongly suggest that you head to the mess hall, eat and then get at least six hours of rest. Do I make myself clear?"

There must have been a nodding of heads for Trip couldn't see their reply. He had the best of friends and even though he failed them, they would never abandon him. The ICU went quiet and Trip assumed that he was alone. He let out a sigh and attempted to role unto his side, but was stopped by the wires.

"Are you certain that you will be alright by yourself?" Malcolm asked quietly.

Trip opened his eyes and glanced over at the door where his friend was standing. He looked so weary of life, deserving of rest and reassurance. Trip gave him his best smile and lifted a heavy hand off the bio-bed in a fist.

"I'm never alone with Malcolm Reed at my back. Keep your shirt on Loo-tenant."

Malcolm smiled and disappeared out the door. Trip closed his eyes, finally knowing that he could recover and join the world of the living again. He had a lot more planets to set foot on. Those traumatic moments can scar us deeply if we let them, but if we keep trying then we can survive.

**

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**

"You look pretty good for an almost dead guy," Jonathan joked, seeing Trip sitting up on his bio-bed.

It had been five days since the surgery and Phlox had moved him to the regular part of sickbay, finally allowing other visitors. Hoshi and Travis had been the first there. Hoshi cried tears of joy that Trip was getting better and she insisted that movie night was horrible without him. The aftereffects of the heart surgery were very minimal and Trip was recovering nicely without the device or the toxin in his systems. But the memories didn't fade. His nightmares were frequent and occasionally Malcolm noticed that Trip was thinking about other things that he couldn't understand. It was a long recovery road that they had begun, though today was a big step. Phlox was discharging him from sickbay to his quarters.

"Are you ready to break out of here?" Jon asked, sitting down next to him.

"You have no idea. I'm ready to sleep on an actual bed and maybe get some work done. I haven't even seen my engines in weeks. I don't know how you've kept the ship together without me."

Jonathan laughed before patting him on the shoulder. "Malcolm; that's who has been keeping the ship together. I've caught him on double shifts twice and sent him to bed. I'm beginning to feel like his mother."

There was a long pause as Trip thought of his last moments speaking with Malcolm before the incident in the shuttle pod and his disappearance.

"Does he feel guilty?" Trip muttered after a few minutes.

"No, I don't believe so. I think that Lieutenant Reed is in good shape; he just needs a little less stress from a certain engineer that I know."

Trip smiled again and watched as Phlox came over to him with his famous almost creepy grin. Everything must have checked out okay in his last bio-scan. The doors to sickbay opened, admitting T'Pol and Malcolm in their uniforms. Without speaking, both came to stand next to Trip's bed to wait for Doctor Phlox to give them the news.

"Commander, you are free to go to your quarters. I would like you to check in twice a day and make sure that you get sufficient nutrition. Your weight is still lower than it should be for you to be healthy. Your heart is functioning perfectly. I don't want to see you until after dinner," Phlox announced in a joyful voice.

"Sounds good to me, Doc. Thanks again for everything."

"Just try to stay out of trouble Commander," the Denobulan teased.

Trip slowly got off the bio-bed, grateful that he'd decided to stick with civilian clothing since his uniform wouldn't have been comfortable. It felt wonderful to be standing on his two feet. He swayed slightly and Malcolm steadied him. As a group they all walked out of sickbay and Trip couldn't wipe the smile off of his face if he wanted to.

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_Thanks for reading! There is one more chapter, maybe two if I can't fit everything in the next chapter. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and don't worry; Trip hasn't healed in a miracle transformation. He has a long way to go emotionally and it shouldn't seem rushed. Please leave a review! Also, I have a poll on my profile that you are welcome to vote in about my next Enterprise fanfic._

_And lunaz… I am very pleased that you would read something I wrote more than once. :)_

_Emma_


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Enterprise, it belongs to Paramount.**

Author's note: Please enjoy the last chapter of "Remembering", it's longer to make up for the last of updating this week since I've been busy. It's been wonderful to read all of your kind reviews and I thank all of you. There's still a poll on my profile if you'd like to know what my next story will be about and would like to vote if you like the idea. Thanks again! Please leave a final review!

And Jessica, yes I couldn't help putting in that part that you will laugh at me for. I tried, but it just fit so well. :)

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**Chapter 9**

"Please… please…" Trip muttered in his sleep, rolling onto his stomach again.

The nightmare ended swiftly with Trip sitting up, gasping and shaking. He remembered. The last of his memories had returned and everything had become clear, each tear and every hit was engrained in his memory. He stumbled from his bed and into the bathroom, turning on the cold water. Trip splashed it on his face and looked at the haunted face he saw in the mirror. It was too hard; too hard to be normal again. Dressed only in his pajamas pants, he could see all the fading bruises, the healing cuts, and the faint outline of his ribs. Choking back a sob, Trip stumbled back to his bed, pulling the blanket around his body as he curled up in the center of his bed. Reaching up, he pushed the com button.

"Malcolm…"

At first there was no response and since it was four in the morning Trip didn't expect him to answer.

"Mal…" his voice choked out. "Are you awake?"

"Commander, is everything okay?" Malcolm answered. He sounded exhausted and as if he'd been woken up.

"No…"

"I'll be right there," his friend responded before Trip could ask what was on his mind.

Trip tried to breathe evenly as he waited for Malcolm to arrive. He focused on staying calm. Each moment was playing over in his mind like a tape on repeat. Trip wished that he could block the images and not hear his own voice anymore, speaking the words that he couldn't stop. The door to his quarters chimed, but Trip felt too weak and tired to move. Malcolm admitted himself and hurried to Trip's side, kneeling beside the bed.

"Trip, what's the matter?" Mr. Reed inquired, placing a hand on the sheets.

Trip gave a weak smile at the look of Malcolm's disarray. He was dressed in a t-shirt and blue pajama pants, lacking socks and shoes. His hair stuck out at odd angles and it was obvious that he'd been asleep. Trip felt slight guilt for waking him up, but it couldn't stop the painful images from surfacing again. He placed both hands on the side of his head and clenched his eyes tightly. Malcolm grabbed his hands and tried to get Trip to look at him.

"Are you alright Trip?" Malcolm repeated.

"Malcolm… I remember… I remember how I betrayed Enterprise."

He coughed harshly and choked back a sob. Malcolm helped him sit up and fetched a glass of cold water from the bathroom for him to drink. Trip drank it greedily and lay back against his pillow, keeping his eyes away from Malcolm's.

"It was so cold and I couldn't stop throwing up. The pain… was excruciating. I just wanted it to end. They came in a pair, like always; one to hold you and the other to inject the needles. At this point, the extra man wasn't needed anymore. I could barely move. They took me to another room down the hallway where I was strapped to a chair… they asked me so many questions. I couldn't stop answering them. I tried but…" Tears dripped down Trip's face and he didn't bother to wipe them away. "I told them about the security systems, the warp drive, even how Captain Archer likes his coffee and scrambled eggs for breakfast. Malcolm, I failed everyone."

Malcolm let the words fall upon his ears, concealing the pain in his eyes before Trip could see. Trip sobbed, rolling onto his side. His shirt had worked its way up partially and Malcolm could see the fading bruises and scars; the price that Trip had paid for resisting and in the end, it wasn't enough. It was a terrible price to pay, almost too great of a price. Malcolm placed a hand on Trip's arm.

"It's not your fault Trip. You couldn't control what they did to you. A lesser man would have caved under their torture within the first few hours. You had to be drugged and your memories erased. You are strong."

"I'm a coward," Trip whispered, avoiding eye contact with Malcolm again.

"No you are not!" Malcolm disagreed. "You lived Trip and the aliens were destroyed, taking their secrets with them to death. They cannot harm us. You're safe."

Trip kept his face pressed to his pillow as the tears trailed down his cheeks. There was nothing that he wanted more than to disappear and forget everything. "How do I survive and move on when everything I've done has been known? I have broken the trust of everyone that I care about. I don't deserve your friendship."

With those words, Malcolm helped Trip sit up and he looked him sternly in the eyes.

"It's not your fault. You cannot blame yourself."

"I can't move on… how do I live after such pain? I'm so ashamed of what I did."

Malcolm kept his hand on Trip's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "Live your life, because that's all any of us can do. "

"I can't Malcolm. I can't."

"I believe in you Trip. You are the man that endured pregnancy, that creepy web-like thing, the desert twice, Shuttlepod One, and so many other things. You can make it through this."

Trip pulled his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them. No smile broke through his tortured features and he kept looking away from Malcolm's cautious gaze. Time passed and Malcolm sat with him, not speaking a word, just giving him the comfort he needed in the form of being with him. For almost an hour they sat in silence with Malcolm's hand on Trip's shoulder as a constant reminder of his friendship. Finally, Trip got the courage to speak to his friend again.

"Do you think that I can heal?" he whispered with the tears barely keeping bay in his eyes.

"Yes, you're Commander Tucker; my closest friend. We have many more disasters to get in together."

Trip nodded, closing his eyes with the image of Malcolm and him sitting in the mess hall planning their next adventure. He didn't wake again until he vaguely heard his door slide open and someone enter. Something was in his face when he reached up to rub his eyes. A voice laughed quietly and Trip realized that it belonged to Jonathan. At first he couldn't remember what happened, but a groan alerted him to the presence of someone else. Opening his eyes, Trip was greeted with the sight of a pale and hairy foot. He quickly sat up, startling the sleeping Malcolm into awareness. He had been sleeping with his feet in Malcolm's face and Malcolm's feet in his face. The blanket was covering Trip's back and part of Malcolm's back side. It looked extremely awkward.

"Did you sleep well?" Jonathan teased.

Malcolm hung his head and Trip could see the blush spreading across his cheeks. This scene triggered a memory that was faint and didn't make much sense to him. It was from the first time that he woke up in sickbay. Malcolm and Jonathan had been there, but they were sleeping…

"This is familiar," Trip mused, causing Jonathan to frown and suddenly look uncomfortable.

"What's familiar?" Malcolm inquired.

"Didn't I see you sleeping like this once?"

Jonathan's face turned red and he shook his head. So, he was going to deny it. This greatly amused Trip and he cracked a wide smile. Malcolm had suddenly become interested in the texture of the blanket and fixing his appearance for Captain Archer's sake.

"No, I think I remember this moment, but it was different. Cap'n, were you using Malcolm's butt as a pillow?"

Both men looked extremely embarrassed and couldn't look at each other with their bright red faces. In spite of his nightmare the night before and his conversation with Malcolm, Trip couldn't help it. In spite of everything, he started to laugh.

**

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**

Two weeks passed quickly and slowly. Trip's health increased by leaps and bounds, but his mental stability and emotions were on a roller coaster. Jonathan and Malcolm kept him company when his nightmares became too much and when he needed someone's shoulder to cry on. Trip spent a few hours a week with Doctor Phlox in counseling to appease Starfleet and allow him to remain on Enterprise. He was slowly healing and began to laugh again. Commander Tucker adjusted his uniform in the mirror and ran his fingers through his damp hair. Today he was allowed to finally return to half-time duty. This would be the first time that he stepped into Engineering in a month. His crew had visited him in sickbay and he'd seen them in the mess hall, but this would be the first time that he was to be Commander to them again. He finished getting ready, pulling on his boots and headed towards the mess hall.

His stomach was a bit queasy and the sight of all the food didn't make him hungry. Trip fetched a cup of coffee from the drink dispenser and looked around the mess hall. The crew was smiling in his direction and a few of them offered seats to him. Trip only had eyes for the three sitting in the middle of the room. Travis, Malcolm, and Hoshi were laughing at the joke that the helmsman was telling. Hoshi's laugh reached him and it gave him more confidence to join them. Malcolm scooted his chair over slightly when he saw Trip coming.

"Good morning Trip," Malcolm greeted.

"Morning," Trip said sitting down next to Malcolm and Hoshi.

"Are you excited for your first day back?" Hoshi asked, giving him a warm smile and touching his arm gently.

Trip simply nodded, not wanting to tell them that he was terrified of freaking out at work or being uncomfortable, though he doubted any of his team would ask him personal questions about what happened. Malcolm took a bite of his food and studied Trip's body language from the corner of his eyes.

"It seems like you're a bit nervous; not going to eat breakfast?" Malcolm asked. "I don't think that Phlox would approve."

"Nah, I'm feeling a little queasy."

"Everything will be fine," Travis piped up. "Anyway, Chef made some homemade cinnamon rolls this morning. It's his special recipe; you should try it."

Trip nodded, but didn't make any effort to get up. Hoshi slipped away from the table for a moment and returned with some orange juice a plate with a warm cinnamon roll on it. He thanked her and quietly ate the food while he listened to them talk about a planet on their present course. It seemed that Captain Archer thought the crew could use a little shore leave to relax. Malcolm finished his food and gave Trip an encouraging smile.

"Are you coming to the movie tonight?" Travis asked, getting Trip's attention.

"What movie is showing?"

"Something about a good western with explosions," Malcolm added, hinting that Trip should spend some time outside his quarters and sickbay.

"Sounds good to me, I'll be there."

Trip went back to finishing his coffee and cinnamon roll, glancing around the room at the smiling faces. He looked over at Malcolm, seeing him shift in his seat and peek over at Hoshi. His cheeks turned a faint pink color before he spoke.

"Would you like to join us?" he asked, smiling widely at her.

"I'd like that," she responded with a smile. She laughed softly and winked at Trip when Malcolm couldn't see it.

Trip covered his mouth with his hand to hide his grin. So, the Lieutenant did feel something towards Hoshi. He knew it. Hoshi and Travis excused themselves with wishes of good luck and headed to the bridge. Malcolm waited patiently for Trip to finish and the two walked toward Engineering together. They stopped outside the door and Trip turned to face his best friend.

"Malcolm… I can't thank you for everything you've done for me…" His voice choked up and he had to stop, not wanting to have red eyes when he stepped back into Engineering.

"It was not a problem Trip. I was just helping a friend."

"You have no idea how much you've helped me, without you…"

"Trip, I would do it again if I was given the choice."

There was a moment of silence and Trip suddenly burst out in a smile.

"After my shift today, would you like to make some plans this evening before the movie? I've been thinking of a good prank to get myself back into a more regular pattern. Would you like to help me?" Trip inquired.

"Sounds interesting, I think I can make time for you." Malcolm smiled and then gave Trip a more serious look. "Good luck today, if you need anything just call me or Captain Archer."

"Thanks Malcolm, for everything."

"You're welcome."

Trip opened the door to Engineering and Malcolm headed towards the armory to get to work before Captain Archer complained that he was late to his shift. He stopped when Trip called out his name. Malcolm turned around and smiled at the sight of the grin on Trip's face.

"Yes, Commander?" Malcolm asked, not sure why his friend was laughing at him.

"You have frosting on your face," he chuckled.

"Is that why Hoshi was laughing…" His voice trailed off as he realized why she'd giggled after looking at him when he invited her to the movie. Malcolm lifted a hand and found it on his cheek. Using his handkerchief he cleaned it off, shaking his head at his own mistake.

"Have a nice day Loo-tenant."

"Same to you Trip."

What lies within us can break us, but what lies within our friends and those that love us will make us stronger.

**THE END**

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_Thanks again and please review!_

_Emma_


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